Chapter 3: Those days that you cherished me

“Come on.” I urged breathlessly, tugging on Jenna's arm. I pulled her inside the port-o-potty.

“It smells!” She murmured, plugging her nose with two manicured fingers. I glared at her, and she sighed.

“Why did you drag me in here?” She asked. I shoved her out angrily, slamming the port-o-potty door behind her. I pulled down my underwear, observing the red splotch. My heart pounded against my bones and I grabbed some toilet paper. I quickly swiped the blood off my upper thigh and balled the toilet paper up in my underwear, pulling it back up. I proceeded to pull up my beige corduroy mini-skirt. It cut off in the middle of my thigh, and when I sat down you could see my underwear. So I made a mental note to stay standing at all times. I tied my hoodie around my waist, adjusting the yellow camisole I'd stolen from POM POM. I'd talked my Mom into getting me a padded bra even though I really only needed a trainer, and the tan straps were out there, for everyone to see against my shoulder blades. I stepped out of the port-o-potty, stumbling on my shoes. They were brown leather boots with a platform, enough to make me as tall as Jenna. They were hers, and I wondered how tall she was when she wore them. Jenna was off by a hot dog stand talking to a few tall, clearly older boys. I straightened my spine and marched over there confidently.

“Did you puke?” She asked blankly, and the boys snorted, amused.

“No, I did not.” I narrowed my glare toward the shorter one, and he backed down shyly.

“This is Peyton. She's my humble servant. Jenna's b***h.” She grinned proudly.

“Am not.” I smirked slightly. She patted my head and placed her elbow on my shoulder, her armrest.

“We've gotta get going, actually. But nice seeing you.” She grinned, and strutted off, leaving me to catch up with her.

“Do you know them?” I asked curiously.

“They go to our school, I just waved and we got to talking. What was up with the bathroom spazz?” She changed the subject quickly.

“I got my... you know.” I mumbled under my breath in embarrassment.

“Your..?” She glanced at me quizzically out of the corner of her eye like I was so immature.

“Period.” I whispered, looking away from her shocked gaze.

“What? Liar! You have no boobage whatsoever!” She exclaimed, her eyes bugging out of her head.

“Um, first, yes I do! And second, you don't need to have b***s to be a woman.” I cracked up.

“Yeah, you do. Otherwise you'll look like Marilyn Manson, or something. A shemale.” She murmured.

“I am not a shemale.” I snort-laughed, and she gazed across the way. She breathed slowly, grinding her teeth.

“I can't believe you got it before me. You don't even care about that kind of stuff.” She rolled her eyes.

“And you do?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah! Anyways, I'll get mine soon. I'm probably just late. I'm sure I'll get it any day now.” She assured herself softly.

“It's not a big deal.” I replied, trying to sound comforting. She sighed loudly, and waited a minute or two before speaking again.

“You know, you really shouldn't wear mini-skirts until your Mom lets you shave your legs.” She remarked with an unfriendly sneer. I recoiled in embarrassment, my knees buckling uncomfortably. She was just getting back at me for being a woman before her. She was just mad that I had big news for once.

“Well, you shouldn't go out in public until you shave that stache.” I teased, and laughed loudly. Her jaw dropped, and my breathing got faster and more worried as she frowned. She wasn't getting the joke, apparently.

“Whatever, Peyton. You're not suddenly cooler then me or anything.” Jenna spat back at me, and she walked ahead of me all the way back to where we were meeting her Mom.

When I got home, I told my Mom. She cried, and hugged me. And I worried that she'd broadcast it to my whole family, that was made up mostly of boys, immature boys. Every time that Jenna invited me over to swim at her house that week of school, I had to refuse. And I had to hold off wearing my adorable velvet baby blue sweat pants, and I had to wear my dark bell-bottoms all week. But by the time that my first week had ended, I called Jenna and told her that we should celebrate.

It seemed she'd forgiven me, because she'd been talking to me like normal. I was glad our little argument hadn't made a huge dent in our friendship. That morning I threw on my crop top, the one with sleeves to my elbows that cut off above my bellybutton. It was white with thin navy blue stripes going across it. I wore a blue tank top under it, to cover my bellybutton, which, just FYI, now had that little rainbow ball inside it. It looked great. I admired it every night before I took it out to disinfect the piercing. I had the supplies left over from when I'd pierced my ears, luckily. An infection would be bad, bad, bad. I wore my low rise jeans, the light wash ones that were skin-tight and had rips at the knees. And yes, Jenna, my knees were still hairy, and I had let them be exposed. Shame, shame, shame.

“Take the tank top off from underneath, it looks dorky. Crop tops are to show your stomach.” Jenna advised, as we were sitting on her bed. I slipped the spaghetti straps off my shoulders and shimmied out of it without removing my pants or top. My stomach was tanned and smooth, and Quinn was always telling me how much she envied how my back curved and my stomach looked so flat.

“The ball looks cool, by the way.” Jenna complimented, lifting her shirt to show off her baby blue diamond.

“That's so cute.” I smiled. My jeans were low, and my shirt was cropped, so there was a perfect view of my stomach to anyone around. Jenna took out her flip-phone and a bright white flash went off as I struck a pose. She smiled, and flipped the phone closed. She set it down on her bed next to her teal leather purse and stood up.
“Let's go outside.” She suggested. I tugged my tank top back under We ran down her stairs, running past the dining room where her Mom was clearing off the table, her iPhone to her ear. We slammed the front door behind us and ran across her front lawn.

“Hi!” A high voice chirped cheerfully as a loud thump sounded in front of us. Maureen, in a denim skirt (to her knees) and a polo shirt landed in front of us. Jenna gasped, losing her breath in shock. She tumbled back, stunned, grabbing my hand as she fell. I fell back on top of her, and closed my eyes as mud splattered all over me. Jenna let out a high-pitched shriek of distress, and I lept off of her, mud dripping from the tips of my hair. I grabbed her hand and helped her up.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry!” Maureen gasped, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

“Get lost!” Jenna yelled.

“I'm really sorry.” Maureen gazed at me, trying to reason with Jenna.

“It's okay.” I assured her, and she rambled on, tears in her eyes.

“No, it's not! You might have fugly clothes that you can get muddy but mine are worth something. You're going to pay for this, if you can afford it, you piece of trash.” Jenna spat. Maureen backed away, a tear slipping out of her eye and down her narrow cheekbones. Jenna shook her head quickly, and the mud flew off onto Maureen's face. I gazed at her apologetically as Jenna led me inside her house.

“She is the stupidest immature girl ever. I hate her.” Jenna murmured angrily.

“Jenna, you shouldn't be so mad. She didn't do it on purpose.” I protested softly.

“Whatever.” She groaned, glaring at me out of the corner of her eye. She stood up and walked away from me, into the bathroom across the hall from her bedroom.

“We have to have a bath.” She decided, gazing at me suddenly like everything was okay.

“Um... together?” I asked, biting my lip in embarrassment.

“I'll fill it with bubbles, you perv. We'll close our eyes when we get in and out. Don't be a wimp-o.” She rolled her eyes, and began to run hot water into the bathtub. She scurried over to the sink, grabbing a big pink bottle of what looked like Pepto Bismal but turned out to be bubbles. She poured it in with the water, until the whole tub was filling with white foamy bubbles.

“You first.” I murmured. She set her phone down on the bath mat and I turned away from her. I heard her strip off her clothes quietly and water churning as she climbed into the bathtub. I turned around when she said it was okay, and she closed her eyes tightly. I pulled off my tank top and shirt, and then my jeans. I carefully removed my bra, placing an arm over my chest as I slipped out of my underwear. I climbed cautiously into the tub, being super-duper careful to not touch Jenna at all. She opened her eyes when my toe touched her thigh, and laughed as my eyes widened in shock. I turned beet red, crossing my arms over my chest just in case the bubbles didn't provide full coverage.

“There's mud in your hair.” She murmured. I ducked under the water, feeling the dusty dried mud float off the strands of hair it was on and into the water. I went back to the surface and breathed in the steamy, warm air above the water. She picked up her phone casually and snapped a picture of me as I blew bubbles with my hands. I laughed and she snapped another shot. She twisted it around and took a picture of herself, making a kissy-pout. We did a full-on nude photoshoot, without showing anyone that we were nude. And we so were.

It was a bit awkward after our little bathtub experience. I borrowed some pajamas from her and we sat in her room watching YouTube videos until my Mom came to pick me up.

“I can't believe it. Your new jeans, completely ruined. And that POM POM store gave you such a good deal!” My mom was still spazzing about my muddy clothes by the time we got home. And Jenna and I lived far away from eachother. She was in the rich side of town, and I was in the average side of town. As far as Mom was concerned, I had a new job at the daycare down the street from us after school, and I'd made tons of money in the past few weeks to spend on clothes. My mom came home pretty late so I managed to think up some stories about how one little girl at the daycare was so cute and how there were triplets who were like something out of a sitcom.

“It's okay, Mom. I'm sure I can go back and get something like them, with a cheap price too. They're always having big sales.” I explained, rolling my eyes.

“You're a woman!” A tall buff boy with a blonde faux-hawk grinned at me as I walked down the hall. My normal confidence and poise began to fade as I received the comment from his friend aswell. Everyone was snickering and looking at me and I tucked down, holding my books closely against my heaving chest.

And then I saw it. That mischevious, evil laminated poster. It's plan thrown into action, people were stopping to stare. I walked quickly toward it, stopping right in front of it.

There I was, posing with my belly showing and again in the bathtub, my bare shoulders peeking above the water and even a bit of where my cleavage would be if I had any. And in big bold black letters was: PROTECTION, AFTER ALL, YOU'RE A WOMAN NOW! I was furious. I ripped down the poster, throwing it in a crumpled ball on the floor. I stomped down the hall to Jenna's locker. She had her head tucked inside it, and was applying bright pink glittery AVON lipgloss. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder black top and a plaid mini-skirt with black boots. She popped a mint tic-tac in her mouth and closed her locker as I slammed against the one beside it.

“Peyton! Tic-tac?” She asked, holding out the pack for me. I smacked it out of her hand. Her lips formed a smirk, and she placed her hands on her hips, un-affected. I tugged on my denim mini-skirt aggressively, so it hugged my hips the way it was supposed to. I glanced down at my chest, making sure that the white camisole with little pastel pink hearts all over it was covering my bra.

“Why?” I asked, stepping closer to her. I could feel her breath on my face, and I was staring right into her eyes, with a rush of adrenaline inside me.

“Whatever are you talking about?” She asked, and began to strut down the hall as I tagged behind her, speed-walking to keep up.

“Um, maybe that huge poster broadcasting my woman-hood and newly w***e-ish ways to the whole school!” I exclaimed.

“Oh. That. Well, whoever made it maybe thinks it's your fault. If you hadn't acted like a w***e, you wouldn't be known as one. Kapeesh?” She glared at me, stopping in front of her first class.

“No. I just think you're jealous because I'm starting to catch up with you. All the girls that envy you envy me too, and just as many boys like me. And now I got my period, and it's got you spooked to death.” I whispered intimidatingly. She rolled her eyes, brushing her bangs behind her ear.

“First of all, you will never be as popular as me. You are a worthless nobody without me, and after this conversation none of those girls and boys will remember why they loved you so much.” She enunciated clearly, speaking right into my ear.

“And guess what? You may think everyone loves you, but the truth is that they all think you're a b***h and none of them truly care about you, they're just afraid of you. Including Quinn.” I replied, and turned around. I walked down the hall, keeping my head up high.

By third period, everyone had heard about:

1. My apparent promiscuity

2. Mine and Jenna's friendship was no more

3. Little nobody Maureen started the tryst

That third one I wasn't aware of before I heard people whispering about it. Apparently I'd stuck up for Maureen, kind of true, and Jenna had gotten mad, kind of true too. The good thing about all the rumors was that most of them made me seem cooler then Jenna. Except the ones about me being a big bag of pure skank.

“Peyton, walk with me.” Mr. Bryce gestured for me to come to the front of the class as my peers exited the room. I gathered up my books and made my way over to him.
“Yes, Mr. Bryce?” I asked nervously, biting my nails. He handed me his hot cup of starbucks coffee.

“Carry this for me, will you?” He asked. I nodded, holding it in my palm carefully.

“So, what's this about?” I murmured quizzically, keeping up a brisk pace to stay by his side.

“Well, nothing important. I'm just wondering if you're okay. Even I'm hearing things, and I'm a boring bookworm. I hear you and Ms. Demsing are having an argument.” His eyebrows raised. Jenna was in the class that I had with him, and I'd watched her leave the room with a burning flame of anger in my heart.

“Not an argument. We're just not friends.” I replied.

“And I've also seen those posters. I know that they might be hurtful, and I'm sorry I didn't take them down first thing this morning. I didn't see them until about second period, and when I went around to take them down, they were already gone.” He explained. My brow furrowed in confusion.

“Who took them down?” I blurted out quickly.

“I'm not sure. But they definitely deserve a thank you.” He beamed at me with a proud smile. Mr. Bryce was the only, and I mean only, teacher that I liked. It was partly because I had a puppy-dog crush on him, and also because he took teaching to a different level. One that I actually enjoyed. I looked forward to his class every day, and I would stare in awe through all his lessons.

“Definitely.” I grinned shyly, swiping my hair out of my face. He had an adorable chin dimple, like John Travolta in Grease. His hair was brown and spiked up naturally. He had sunken in cheekbones and looked really sexy even when he wore sweatervests. I felt a bit more confident walking past all my peers in the hall, standing next to him. Tall with big enough arms, no one dared to snipe at me. He stopped next to the teachers' lounge.

“I think you shouldn't be so shy about it all. Without Jenna, you seem to be a bit of an outcast. Maybe you should just break out of your shell and talk to people. Carpe diem.” He grinned down at me. I turned away from him, crashing into someone, my forehead hitting their tooth. The hot coffee poured down my bare legs, burning the sensitive skin on my thighs.

“S**t!” I exclaimed, and turned bright red as Mr. Bryce rushed to my aid. Maureen sat on the floor, holding her tooth in pain, her navy blue knitted sweater completely ruined with coffee. My tank top was stained and the coffee soaked through to my bare stomach.
“Are you girls alright?” He exclaimed, helping us each up with both hands. I smoothed out my skirt, and Maureen hugged herself tightly, avoiding my eyes.

“I'm sorry.” I reached out and touched her shoulder lightly. She flinched at my touch, and glanced up at me.
“Me too.” She blinked gratefully.
“Sorry about your coffee...” I trailed off awkwardly, looking at Mr. Bryce. His eyes were worried and caring, and he rolled his eyes.

“There's a coffee maker in the teachers' lounge. I'll be fine.” He smiled winningly, and squeezed my shoulder, turning away from us.

“Hey, do you have gym clothes?” I asked Maureen, struggling to meet her eyes.

“No.” She murmured. Her beige corduroys were ruined too, and she looked mortified.

“I have extras.” I replied, and awkwardly led her to my locker.

“There. Good as new.” I smiled, adjusting the turquoise lulu lemon t-shirt on Maureen. It had become too small for me, and it looked good on her. It made her look like a twig, but it was flattering too. She wore it with my black sweatpants. I wore my baggy grey sweats with my navy blue tank top and a tight hoodie.

“Better. I know I have bad clothes. I just don't have a lot of fashion sense.” She mumbled.
“You're fine, Maureen. I never dressed that great before this year.” I explained.

“Oh,” She inhaled deeply, “well now everyone loves you, so it's not like it matters who you were before.” She blushed as she finished that sentence.

“That came out wrong.” She blurted out nervously, and I giggled.

“It's okay. I get it.” I smiled. She finished braiding her hair and tied it at the bottom. I pulled my hair up into a high pony-tail and twisted it around into a ballerina bun. I stuck two bobby pins inside it and let a few strands hang down near my ears.

“Let's go.” I took her cold hand in mine and led her outside. Right away there was a chain reaction. People stopped to take a good look at Maureen. I was kind of shocked at the confidence that went along with the clothes. She stood taller then before. I felt compelled to make it even better, and pulled her hair out of the braids. In natural waves, it fell down on her shoulders, tickling her collarbone.

“There. You go girl!” I teased, patting her on the back. We walked down the hall to the cafeteria, and I could feel myself glowing.

Reviews

[Calypso]

This is a good coming of age book. In a way I feel for Peyton.

[J.A.N]

Jenna makes me angry,
but if Jenna hadn't been such a b***h, Peyton wouldn't have really noticed Maureen. And Maureen, I'm excited!
I know she's a shy character so far, so I'm wondering what her story is.
Keep writing! I want to know what happens next.

xoxo